All I Have
by Physiologyfan
Summary: *SPOILER ALERT* "104th Cadet Corps…Squad 19 Leader…Marco Bott." After finding Marco's body in the street, Jean feels his life crumbling around him. All that's left of the sometimes strenuous and difficult, but always honest and passionate relationship between the two is memories. Jean thinks through many of them, from the first day they met to the last moment they had together. (M)
1. Finding Marco

"104th Cadet Corps…Squad 19 Leader…Marco Bott." I manage to say, fighting to speak between haggard breaths. The white haired woman who has been pressing me mutters something in response, but I've tuned her out. In fact, the entire world is tuned out right now as I stare down at what's left of Marco's body.

His face…the half that remains is distorted with the beginnings of rot. I'm rendered immobile at the sight of his eye, still peeking out at the world, wide and curious just like it always had been. He would always look at me with those wide eyes, asking me what I thought, or how I was feeling, or what I needed. No doubt, Marco was the best of us. He was the best of _me._

I can hear the irritating woman's footsteps as she leaves me alone. I don't give a crap if there is no time to mourn. It's Marco…God, I didn't even know he died. Nobody knows how he died. Although from his missing right side one could guess what happened. I shut my eyes at the gory thought.

Where was I when this happened? I think back to when I was most certainly facing my death, clumsily struggling to get the three-dimensional maneuver gear off of a dead body, a titan stepping lazily toward me, hand about to reach for me. If Marco hadn't rushed down to save me…I would be dead. If only I could have been there when he was in danger as well. Tears finally spring up in my unfocused eyes.

Kneeling down in front of him, I take off my right glove and raise a hand, letting it settle on his cheek. I don't care if I could get sick, and I don't care that he's already cold and hard by now. I _have_ to feel him at least one more time. His skin feels nothing like it did before, but it's still his. I think back to all the times I've touched him, feeling his warm, soft, freckle-littered body. Gritting my teeth, I let the memories roll over me heavily, one by one. They're crushing me, their weight forcing my head down until I'm staring at his limp hand, palm facing up as it lies motionlessly on the cobblestone.

It's over, everything I hoped for. Marco Bott was the only person capable of taking my hard soul and making it care about someone else. What's left for me now? How can I go on without him?

The thought of going back to my old dream of solitarily going to the military police makes me sick now, or maybe it's the smell of rotting bodies surrounding me. Marco's scent comes to mind, that sweet, implacable scent that wafted into my nose every time I was around him. Countless times I buried my nose into his shoulder or chest, trying to figure out what it was. The only reasonable conclusion I ever came up with was wet trees. It sounded so stupid, and he laughed when I told him, but he always reminded me of the fresh scent that fills the air when it rains in the forest.

I lean down, pulling the cloth on my face down enough to expose my nose. Momentarily I press my nose into his jacket on the left side of his chest. All I can smell is blood, soot, and rotting flesh. Disappointed, I sit back up, replacing the cloth on my face. I was hoping for one more whiff of him, but I'll just have to rely on the memory.

I smile sadly, thinking back to the first time I met him. Then I think about all the events that led up to us confessing our feelings to each other. I remember our first kiss…and our first time. I remember the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hair that, to his disdain, I could never help but mess with. Everything is rushing at me so fast, and I stay there, thinking about him for who knows how long. These memories are all I have now, and if I'm going to keep Marco in my heart, I can't let them go.


	2. Memory 1: First Formation

Jean's first memory of Marco. Short and sweet. Don't worry, the rest of them will be much longer than this. If you can spare the time I'd love a review or two. **Thank you!**

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I look up from the ground, holding my head where my instructor just head-butted me for my answer to his inquiry about my goals. So much for starting the first day on the right foot. Grimacing, half from pain and half from embarrassment, I focus on the sound of a happy and determined voice answering the dead-eyed man who just hit me, putting my shaky response to shame. He must be bullshitting like all the other guys. Am I the only one to be honest about why I plan to join the Military Police? We all know the true reasons so many strive to join it. We want to _survive_. There shouldn't be anything wrong with not wanting to die.

Yet somehow, the sincerity in that boy's voice, Marco I believe he said his name was, is enough to make me feel a small twinge of guilt as he proclaims his desire to lay down his life for the king if that's what it takes.

It almost makes me feel a bit bad for him as our instructor rails on him about the fact that the king wouldn't care about his sacrifice. Out of the corner of my eye I can see fear and hurt momentarily appear on the freckled boy's face. Yeah, it's harsh, but that's what this training is for. We will all become harsh, even this dedicated fellow cadet who seems to be catching his breath as our instructor moves on to his next victim in the formation.


	3. Memory 2: Bunkmates

This is memory number two that Jean is thinking through. All of the memories will go in chronological order in case you're wondering, and will tell the story between Jean and Marco. And since it's Jean remembering all of this, the story will be from Jean's POV only. Sorry! Once again, please review if you get the chance. **Thanks!**

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"Hey, I'm Marco Bott." I hear a gentle voice say as a boy walks up to my bunk where I'm sitting by myself. He brings me out of my angry reflections on my confrontation with that Eren guy earlier at dinner and I look up at him. It's the boy from this afternoon who declared his willingness to die for the king in formation, only to be rebuffed angrily by our instructor. Looking at him straight on now, instead of out of the corner of my eye, I'm able to get a better look at him. He looks tall, but that might just be because I'm seated and he's standing. His skin is slightly tanner than mine, and his middle-parted hair is a deep, dark brown. He has brown eyes to match, just a lighter in color. The freckles that litter his cheeks are even more pronounced up close.

He's smiling down at me, and I realize, tearing my eyes away from his oddly captivating face, that he has his hand extended out to me. I take it, shaking hands with him and offering a half-hearted grin in response.

"Jean Kirstein." I answer, sliding over and gesturing for him to sit next to me. He nods, sitting cross-legged and leaning against the left corner pillar of my bunk.

"I'm assigned to the bunk above you, but I figured I'd hang down here with you for a bit since we it's not lights out for another few minutes yet." He informs me in a friendly manor.

"Oh, cool. Nice to meet you bunkmate." I answer.

"How's your head?" Marco asks. I gape at him for a few moments, confused. However, I then realize he's referring to the head-butt I received before from our instructor. I frown, slightly embarrassed, and he chuckles lightheartedly. "Never mind, I shouldn't have brought it up. If it makes you feel better, I've heard plenty more people making jokes about me than about you." He says, still smiling. I can't help but be eased a bit by that, even if it is at Marco's cost.

"That does kind of make me feel a little better. Sorry." I say, scratching the back of my head and wearing a bashful smile that is very unlike me.

"Don't be sorry. You're honest. I like that." He responds, lifting a hand. My eyes widen as he reaches toward my face. I stare at him in confusion and awkward shock as his thumb lightly glides along my forehead. _What is this guy doing?_

"No bump. You're lucky. I heard one of the other recruits got a pretty nasty black eye from him." He exclaims. I blink at him for a few moments before nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess I am lucky."

"Well I better head up to my bunk. We have aptitude tests for three-dimensional maneuvering gear tomorrow, so I want to get plenty of rest. It'll be hard to sleep though on our first night here though, don't you think?" He says, stretching his arms and standing.

"Yeah, being in a new place and all." I say. He nods, grabbing hold of the bed pillar and swinging effortlessly up into his bunk.

"Well that and also because of the excitement. We're soldiers now." I hear him announce happily to me from above. I look up and he's peering over the side of his bed, smiling down at me. "Night!" He adds before his freckled face disappears behind his mattress. I can't help but smile to myself as I lie down and get comfortable. Having someone like Marco around is something I could get used to. He's a nice guy, nicer than anyone else here that I've met so far. And knowing me, it'll take someone extremely nice to tolerate being my friend. It's just how I am. I'm not ashamed though. I'd rather tell the truth and be looked down upon than hide my thoughts and be praised. Even if it does cause me to alienate people often, there's no way I'm ever going to change. Looking up at the bottom of Marco's bunk, I hope to myself that at least one person here will accept me for me. At that, the lights turn out. So I turn on my side and shut my eyes, taking Marco's advice on getting good rest for the tests tomorrow.


	4. Memory 3: Dinner Confrontation

Here with another chapter. This memory takes place right after the second argument between Eren and Jean shown in the anime when Eren uses the move he copied from Annie to knock down our poor Jean, with some Marco thrown in there of course! As always, I love the reviews. **Thanks!**

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I am absolutely livid. There are so many things I can't stand about Eren Jaeger I don't even know where to begin. Standing up from the dining hall floor where he just threw me down, I take myself to a seat quickly, trying to conceal the short struggle from our instructor who has just come through the door. Covering for us, Mikasa exclaims that the loud noise he heard was Sasha passing gas. I'm so furious I don't even join in the scattered giggles around the room as the dead-eyed instructor leaves and Sasha cries out to Mikasa in protest.

Looking up, I meet Eren's glare from across the table. After returning it for a few moments, I stand abruptly and return to my original seat. I turn left to make a remark to Marco, but he's missing. Glancing around the room, I fail to find him. The person sitting across from me is Connie, but his stupid responses will do nothing but irritate me further at this point. So I hunch over and continue to scarf down the rest of my food without speaking to anyone.

Soon the bell rings for us to leave, so I dump my dishes in the bin by the kitchen and lazily make my way to the exit. I take my time so that I'm the last one, because I just can't deal with anyone right now. I'm way too pissed off. As I leave the dining hall, I pause on the porch and stare ahead at the crowd of new soldiers slowly splitting in half as the genders return to their separate barracks. The last thing I want to do is join the other guys and have them rag on me about how easily Eren took me down. I don't even have an excuse. Yeah, he caught me off guard, but soldiers are always supposed to be on guard. Clenching my hands into fists, I exhale heavily in frustration and make my way off the porch.

"Jean," I hear a familiar and extremely friendly voice say. I turn and see Marco coming around the corner of the dining hall building, holding a cloth sack. I step off the last stair, now standing on the dirt. When he comes up to me, I notice with slight annoyance that he really is taller than me, even if it's just an inch or two. I shake my head slightly, trying to stop every little thing from getting me worked up.

"Here." Marco says, handing me the small sack. I take it wordlessly, confused for a moment until I feel cold seeping through the cloth.

"Ice?" I ask.

"Yeah. You fell pretty hard, and I don't want you to be hurting tomorrow during training. You want to be in your best shape." He says, giving me a concerned look. I roll my eyes and begin walking alongside him back to our barracks.

"He knocked me on my ass. Thanks, but I'm not going to walk in there holding an icepack on my ass Marco." I answer grimly, even though I am starting to feel some soreness. I'd rather die and let people know that what Eren did actually kind of hurt. Marco stares at me for a moment, looking a bit taken aback, but then he smiles wide.

"I understand." He says, taking the icepack from me. We are almost at the barracks, and we finish our walk wordlessly with Marco still sporting his goofy smile. What's weird about it though is that he doesn't bug me. If anyone else had come up and offered me ice, I probably would have knocked it on the ground or angrily proclaimed that I don't need or want it. Marco has this characteristic about him that keeps me calm though. I'm glad him and I are becoming friends. It makes me feel a bit guilty for hitting him jokingly on the back of the head and causing his drink to spill all over his face earlier right before Eren and I had our confrontation. He doesn't seem to mind though.

We're in the barracks now, and I'm wearing a scowl mean enough to ward off the tallest of titans. Nobody says a word to me, so my goal is achieved. How must Marco and I look right now? I look ready to kill the next person to cross my path, and he's wearing an expression that makes you expect a hug from him any minute. We're polar opposites, him and I.

"What's the ice for Marco?" Connie asks, walking alongside him for a few moments.

"I fell on my elbow earlier today, and during dinner it started feeling a little more sore than I anticipated." He answers swiftly. Connie nods and pats him on the shoulder.

"Hope it feels better in the morning man. See you." He says, breaking off to go flop onto his bed. A few more steps and we're at our bunk. Marco hops up into his bunk gracefully once again, taking the icepack with him. After taking off my boots, I ease myself under my covers, taking note of the dull pain starting to form on my bottom. It makes me feel a bit bad for rejecting Marco's offer, and a bit stupid because I know it'll really bug me in the morning.

I close my eyes before the lights are even out, tuning out the scattered voices of the other boys as they make their way into their own beds. I just want this frustrating day to be over already. Everything would be fine if that Eren wasn't here. He annoys me to no end with his false proclamations and promises. He doesn't know the first thing about killing titans, and he's telling everyone he's going to wipe them out. What a joke. At least I'm realistic, which is what he hates about me. He hates that I don't take his crap seriously and dote on his fake words of encouragement and bravery. I just want to live long enough to actually say I've lived.

The brightness from the other side of my eyelids disappears and I know it's lights out. Just as I'm about to roll over, something drops onto my stomach. I gasp quietly in surprise and grab whatever it is. When I feel the cold fabric again, I immediately realize it's the icepack that Marco had. I look up and can just make out the silhouette of his head hanging over the side of his bed.

"Don't be stubborn." He whispers before disappearing. I can't help but smirk at his kindness. What a funny guy. Maybe that's okay though. It's not bad to have someone watching out for you. Smiling to myself, I reach down and set the cool bag against the sore spot on my bottom, and I have to admit it feels a lot better.


	5. Memory 4: Long Distance Run

Here's Jean's fourth memory of Marco. Don't worry, the next chapter after this is when the fluff will commence! I'm like a broken record, but please review. It makes me pretty much the happiest person alive. **Thanks!**

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I have no idea how long exactly we've been running through the forest, but I know it's been at least over two hours. It's times like this when I really hate being in the military. Every muscle in my body is screaming and my lungs just don't seem to be working correctly. Of course, nobody would know that because I'm at the head of the pack and have put on a strong face. I can't have people underestimating me now when I've just started getting some respect.

Marco is close behind me. We tend to stick together during training whenever we can. It just sort of started happening like an unspoken agreement, even as Marco started making more friends besides just me. I can hear his huffing and puffing behind me and I know that he's hurting just as much as I am. The difference is he doesn't care what people think like I do, so he doesn't hide it.

For a moment, I wonder what I'm really doing up in the front of the pack. I'm killing myself to stay up here, but for what reason? I'm not the fastest runner here by any means, so I'm putting out twice the effort to remain ahead. Marco has a tendency to make me rethink everything I do, and I have no idea why.

Upon deeper thought, I realize that most things I do in training lately, I do with Marco in mind. I don't want him to think I'm weak, that's the bottom line. But am I really accomplishing anything by pushing myself so hard to stay in the front? Marco's ragged breathing reaches my ears again, and I realize that since we always stick together, I'm the one making him push himself so hard.

Before my ego can convince me otherwise, I begin to slow down slightly, lining up with Marco. He glances over at me with a questioning face at first, but then it turns to what looks like relief. His freckled face is red from exertion, his mouth hanging slightly open to breathe. Silently, we begin to let others pass us, settling a bit more comfortably in the middle of the pack of soldiers. I sneak another glance at Marco, and he's giving me a small smile. That's all he can muster right now but it reassures me greatly.

Later on, we can finally see the base in the distance. Everyone speeds up in anticipation, never before so happy to see those barracks. As we leave the forest line and move onto the tan colored dirt of our training areas, the signal whistle is blown. Thank goodness!

As if we've been shot, at least half of the soldiers in the group collapse to the ground, including me. I lay there, the left half of my face in the dirt, panting and gasping for air. My body right now feels as if it'll never move again.

"Thanks for slowing down for me." I hear Marco's hoarse voice above me. How is he even upright? I feel him working at the clasps of the heavy pack of gear on my back, trying to get it off of me.

"I did it…for me too." I breathe. I hear him manage a small chuckle, still trying to catch his breath.

"Good. You need to think of yourself more often anyway." He says before grunting as he lifts the fifty-pound weight off of my back. Suddenly I feel air rush into my lungs as if I've been underwater this whole time. "Feel better?" He asks. I nod, my face still in the dirt. Then I see his face come into view as he lies down next to me, resting his chin on his arms. A fresh sheen of sweat is covering his face and neck, wetting his hair slightly. He turns his head so that his right cheek is resting on his hands and gives me his usual closed-mouth smile.

"You don't have to lay here. People will think you're weak like me." I warn. He answers with a small chuckle, his eyes slowly falling closed.

"And what's so wrong about that? I'm much more concerned with being strong of mind than strong of body. We finished right? That's all that matters." He explains. I stare at him silently, knowing that he's just laying here to make me feel better. Usually I would reject such treatment, saying I don't need someone's pity. But like usual, Marco has his ways of contradicting my personality so greatly. He's not showing pity for me. He's simply being the kind, gentle, and caring boy that he is.

"Besides, we're done for the day. We're allowed to be tired." He states, his eyes still closed. I pull my gaze away from his face and look up at the sky, which is orange with the setting sun. I guess we are done for the day.

"Want to go get cleaned up?" I ask. He opens his eyes and watches me as I stand up. My knees are a bit shaky, but I think I'm fine now. He sits up and I offer him a hand, pulling him up to stand next to me.

"Yeah." Marco says quietly, and I notice he's slowly raising a hand to my face. I freeze as I feel his palm and fingers brush gently down my left cheek. What's with this guy and touching my face? I'm about to say something, but for some reason my voice won't work. For a moment I just stare at him, looking into his chocolate eyes and wondering what's going on. The odd feeling circulating through my body right now is both unpleasant and not. I realize quickly that I'm actually nervous. I'm nervous, around _Marco_ of all people!

"You've got dirt on your face." He explains, as if he could hear every thought going through my head. I almost jump at the sound of his voice, nodding vigorously. He finishes brushing off my cheek and then begins to walk to the showers. After picking up my gear, I follow him, hoping to God that I didn't look as stupid as I felt.


	6. Memory 5: Strange Dream

So this is where some…stuff starts to happen lol. Don't judge, you all knew some hard fluff would come flying your way eventually! Nothing too crazy, but Jean has an interesting dream about Marco and it sets him off. There ARE cursing and sexual themes in this chapter, just so you know. Anyway, have fun! **Thanks!**

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_ I can hear Marco's panting again, echoes from our run the other day. Except this time, we're not running. Now, that glisten of sweat along his face is not from exercise. His small smile passes in front of my vision, but then he bites his lip slightly, shutting his eyes. My gaze travels all over him, taking every inch in. I can't see my hand, but I can feel myself reaching out to touch him. Just as my fingertips make contact with his blazing skin, it all ends._

I wake abruptly, gasping for air in the darkness of the barracks. What is the world was that!? I throw my blanket off of me, releasing my sweat-covered body from its prison. I sit on the edge of my bed, panting softly as I rethink the dream I just had…about _Marco_.

Looking down, I take notice of the bulge in my shorts. Sighing in frustration, I run my fingers through my hair. Am I really reacting this way to a dream about him? I close my eyes and think back to it. His face was flushed and his hair tousled, and I think we were in a bed together. It was all so swimmy I can't remember it clearly.

Whatever happened, one thing is for sure. It _was_ Marco, and I am extremely turned on right now. I flop back onto my bed, staring up at the bottom of his bunk, something I've caught myself doing a lot lately. Over the past few months, we've become much closer than I thought we would. Everyone refers to us as best friends because we're always together. We don't even realize we're doing it because it just feels natural.

What worries me is that these terrible thoughts about him I just had also feel natural when I know they're wrong. Instead of his gentle smile I pictured his face twisted with desire. Thinking about Marco in any way except his true, innocent form shouldn't even be possible for me. In fact, I'm thoroughly pissed off at myself right now for even dreaming it.

After lying there for a few more minutes, I finally cool off enough to be able to settle myself back underneath my blanket. Shutting my eyes as tightly as I can, I force the thoughts out of my head. We're soldiers. Something like that could never happen anyway.

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It's morning, and I'm almost done getting dressed. Marco hasn't come down yet, so I've been using the time to clear my head. I was just overthinking things last night. That dream couldn't have had any real meaning.

"Morning Jean. How'd you sleep?" Marco says, swinging down and abruptly coming to a halt next to me. He sits on the edge of my bed to put on his boots. I freeze at his question and close proximity, reliving the dream from last night all over again despite my efforts to bury it. Praying that I'm not blushing, I clear my throat to answer him.

"I slept all right. What about you?" I ask.

"Great!" He answers with a grin, standing to reach up and grab his jacket off of his bed. Once he shrugs it on, we stand and leave together. I'm letting my thoughts get to me, and I try to keep myself calm as we make our way to the gear shed. I can't let myself be awkward around him just because of a stupid dream. Knowing Marco, he'll think he did something wrong and try to figure out what he did. The thought of making him feel bad makes a pit form in my stomach, but the thought of him finding out about my dream sets the pit much deeper.

"Jean?" I hear. I snap out of my thoughts and turn to be met with Marco's concerned face.

"Yeah?"

"Are you okay? You haven't been answering me. You seem like your mind is elsewhere." He says. I almost jump out of my skin, surprised at the fact that I haven't even been hearing him talk because I've been so preoccupied in my own head.

"Oh, yeah I'm fine…Just had a strange dream last night." I say, hating myself for always being so honest. I always speak before I think! We enter the shed and sit next to each other on a bench after we retrieve our assigned gear.

"What was your dream about?" He says, slipping the brown, leather loops around his legs.

"Titans." I blurt out quickly. Not the greatest lie, but it's much better than the truth.

"Ah, sorry I asked. Don't feel bad though. We all get nightmares sometimes. It's only natural since we're training to go fight them." He says gently, pulling the belt taunt going across his chest. I nod, staring down at my gear on my lap. I haven't even started putting it on. Lying is my least favorite thing to do, especially since I'm doing it to Marco. But I can't exactly come out and say I had a sexual dream about him now can I?

"Thanks." I answer distractedly. Marco stares at me for a few moments and then sets a hand on my shoulder.

"Jean, if you ever need to talk you know I'm here. I won't judge." He says, offering me one of his signature smiles that I've grown so used to. Half of me almost wants to come right out and say it right there, but the other half scoffs at my insane thoughts. Yeah, of course Marco wouldn't judge me if I told him I'm afraid of titans, but me having these thoughts is a completely different animal altogether. Who knows how he'd react.

"I know, thanks." I answer, avoiding his gaze. After a few moments of silence, he pats my shoulder before retracting his hand.

"Well you better hurry and get that gear on. If we don't get to formation early enough we might not find a spot near each other, and we could end up in separate groups." He warns. At this I proceed to hastily put on my gear. He's right, I don't want us to end up in separate groups. We've both come to recognize that we perform better when we have each other nearby as motivation.

As I finish by sliding my swords into their sheathes and begining to head toward the exit, I feel a hand grip the back of my jacket. Stopping abruptly, alarm shoots through my body as I feel Marco's arms come around me, his body pressing up against my back. Gasping, I fall still as stone as his hands find their way to the belt on my lower abdomen. What the hell is he doing?! And why of all days, has he chosen to do something like this _today_, when I've already doubted my sexuality too much for comfort?

"I know I told you to hurry but if you keep your belt loose like this you're going to hurt yourself as soon as you make your first jump. Don't be careless." He says as he pulls my belt tighter, his breath tickling the back of my neck. Unable to control myself, I let my eyes fall closed at the sensation of him so close to me. This is all too much!

"There. Perfect!" Marco proclaims after he refastens it, backing away. I take in a deep and shaky breath, trying to force myself to calm down. No words come to my mouth, and no motion to my feet. He was right up against me, his chest to my back, and his groin against my backside! For a few moments I can do nothing but stand there.

"You okay Jean?" Marco asks. Swallowing, I turn around to face him.

"Don't do shit like that." I finally say much too aggressively, frowning at him. Marco flinches at my answer, hurt and surprise immediately showing darkly in his eyes. Face as red as blood, he looks down at the floor.

"I'm sorry." Is all he says, before attaching his sword sheathes to his hips. Then he leaves the shed quickly, being careful not to brush shoulders with me as he exits. I stare after him, unable to come up with anything to say that could fix the situation. He's walking quickly across the yard, and I can see him gripping his head in what I think may be frustration.

Once he's out of sight, I plop myself back down on the bench, holding my face in my hands. Why am I such a jerk all the time? I didn't need to say that. I didn't need to say anything! I just said it because I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it if he started doing stuff like that more often. Marco has always been a touchy-feely guy, but never like that. He probably didn't even realize what he did until afterward. I'm the one who made a big deal about it. I'm always the one to make a big deal out of everything, aren't I?

He probably hates me now. The thought of him no longer wanting to be my friend hits me harder than I expected, and a few tears spring into my eyes. I am the biggest asshole alive! And the only way I can think of to fix this is by telling him the truth about the dream and why I freaked out. I sigh heavily, trying to avoid even thinking about what would happen if I told him that.

"Hey Jean, what're you crying about this time?" I hear Eren Jaeger's taunting voice above me as he enters the shed. I quickly spring up off the bench, wiping the small amount of tears from my eyes.

"Shut the fuck up." I say angrily, pushing past him roughly. I've got just enough self-control left not to shoulder Mikasa and Armin out of my way as well, who are trailing behind Eren like usual.

"Jeez, I was just joking." I hear Eren mumble behind me as I come out into the sunlight of the lot. Today is _not _the day for his stupid jokes. Trudging across the dirt, I weave my way between buildings to get to morning formation. I feel pretty bad, that is until I arrive and spot Marco standing there.

Now I feel absolutely miserable.

He's stood himself right in the middle of a bunch of other soldiers already in position, so that I won't be able to be next to him. For a moment I just stare at the back of his head. Then, falling into line about four soldiers to his left, I hang my head until everyone else gets here and we are called to attention.

I have to fix this today.


	7. Memory 6: Unexpected Direction

Well hello again everyone! Here's where Jean tries to explain exactly why he was such a meanie to Marco, and Marco does a little explaining himself. Hope you enjoy. **Thanks!**

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This has probably been the worst day I've had since I joined the military, and that's saying something. After the incident this morning and Marco separating himself from me, we got put in different training groups. He was off sparring while my group went to the forest to practice sharp turns while using our gear. The whole day I was so distracted that I must have fallen at least fifteen times. I even got yelled at for being so clumsy. I'm usually one of the most athletic cadets here, but not today.

At least it's over now though, and I'm heading into the dining hall. It feels odd not walking in with Marco. Since we always go together, I almost feel exposed as I step into the large room. Upon entering, I survey the tables and quickly come to the conclusion that Marco isn't here yet. After I get my food, I sit at our usual table, making sure that I save a seat next to me for him. As Connie, Reiner, Bertholdt and a few others fill up the other seats, I start to worry. Is he coming at all?

As if on cue, I see Marco come through the front door finally. I sit up straighter, giving him the friendliest of smiles from across the room. As he walks toward us, our eyes meet, but he does not smile in return. That's when I notice the dark bruise on his right cheek. _What happened? _I stare at him, concern most likely evident on my face, as he continues toward us.

Then when he gets to our table, he doesn't miss a step. He keeps on walking past us until he gets to an empty table in the corner. I exhale in frustration as I watch him sit down alone, not even bothering to get food.

"What's up with Marco?" Connie asks, staring at him as well.

"I don't know. I'll go talk to him." Reiner says, starting to stand up. I reach out quickly and set my hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down.

"No it's fine, I'll go." I say hurriedly, sliding off of the bench. First I go up and get a serving of food for Marco. Then, as I walk over to his table, I watch him as he stares into space motionlessly, his chin resting on his hand. I've never seen him look so sad before. Or maybe he's pissed at me. Either way, it's my fault and I have to remedy the situation.

Sitting down next to him, I slide his bowl of soup over in front of his arm resting on the wooden table. He looks at me, his expression unchanged, and then slowly takes the spoon I'm holding out to him. Wordlessly, he begins to eat. I watch him for many long moments, unsure of what to say. How do I even begin to explain how stupid I was this morning? I guess the best way to start is by apologizing.

"I'm sorry Jean." Marco says, just as I open my mouth to begin saying the exact same thing. After hesitating for a moment I shake my head.

"No I'm sorry. Listen, I overreacted…I was just in a weird mood because of the dream I had last night." I say, beginning to explain. He looks at me sidelong, a spoon full of soup poised at his lips.

"About the titans?" He asks before sliding the spoon into his mouth. I sigh, scratching the back of my head nervously. Here's the hard part.

"It wasn't…" I trail off, looking around to see if anyone is close enough to hear me. Those who are close enough don't seem to be paying us any mind. But still, I lower my voice. "It wasn't about titans. I lied." I admit. Marco's depressed expression begins to turn curious.

"Then what was it about?" He asks. I rub my forehead, trying to think of any way I could put this that won't freak him out. After a few moments of thought, I realize that there isn't one.

"You." I reply in frustration, shutting my eyes. Marco doesn't answer for a bit. I don't move or look at him, fearful that he's giving me a look of disdain.

"What about me?" He says finally, his voice gentle as always despite the confused frown forming on his face. That's the question I've been dreading. Part of me wants to just get up and run away. I can't do this! If I could've just controlled my emotions better, he wouldn't have to know this at all. If only I were a better liar.

I'm about to speak, but I make the mistake of looking around again. I catch Reiner's eye from across the room, and he's looking at me with a questioning face, an eyebrow raised. He's curious as to what's wrong with Marco. I can't seriously say something like this with that guy staring at me. Even if he can't hear me from over there, it's too much and it makes me nervous.

"Jean? What did you dream about me?" Marco asks again. I angrily stand up, furious with myself more than anything else.

"Come with me." I mumble, grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of his seat. He follows without complaint as we weave between tables toward the exit. I can feel eyes on us, but I ignore them as I hurriedly pull him after me.

Once we're outside on the porch, I let go of him. The door swings shut behind us and I lean against the railing, looking out over the dirt and old wooden buildings. Great view. Marco takes the same position next to me, folding his hands together. I look down at the freckles littering his forearms, fading at his wrists. Then I steal a glance of his face. Why am I just noticing now how handsome he is? I shake my head almost imperceptibly, reminding myself that I _don't_ have a crush on him. I'm just messed up in my head because of that damn dream.

"What's going on Jean?" Marco pipes up, breaking the silence. I sigh heavily, gripping the railing nervously with both hands. We're looking at each other, and he's wearing both concern and curiosity on his face.

"In the dream, you were…well _we_ were…" I trail off. I turn my face away. I can't look at him when I'm saying something like this. "We were together…" my voice fades again. This is ridiculously hard.

"Together where?" He asks. Shit, he didn't get what I meant at all. I shut my eyes and take a deep breath.

"No, together as in…together. You know?" I say, unable to delve further into it. It'd be physically impossible for me to form the words. No details will ever be spoken of that dream, not as long as I'm living. I open my eyes to look at him and he's staring at me in confusion. As I'm trying to think of a better way to explain it, realization, along with a deep red blush, suddenly passes across his features.

"Oh!" He exclaims, finally recognizing what I meant.

"It doesn't mean anything though, I swear! It was just that I was feeling really awkward because of it this morning and then when you did that…I sort of freaked out. I'm sorry!" I explain, desperately trying to prevent a look of disgust from forming on his face. Luckily, it never comes.

"I understand." He answers after a few moments, his expression completely unreadable.

"I really am sorry though. It's just that you were so close to me and I was overthinking things. I'm sure you didn't mean it like that at all." I add, wanting nothing more than to make him feel less awkward. He's still blushing, and I know he must be almost as mortified as I am about the whole thing.

"What if I did?" Marco replies.

Wait...what?

A cold confusion rushes through my body. That was not the direction I expected this to go at all. I can't help but stare at him in shock. He can't possibly mean that. We're soldiers. We're _men._

"Did you mean it that way?" I ask, swallowing and dreading his answer a bit. The most terrifying thing is that part of me is hoping he'll say yes. I don't know why, but I know I'll feel hurt if he says no.

Am I really actually attracted to him?

Before he can respond, the bell that signals the end of supper rings loudly above us. We both jump at the loud sound, and then jump a second time as the dining hall door bursts open and the other cadets flood out onto the porch. Marco looks at them, then back at me, and sighs.

"Come on, let's get back to the barracks." He says, his voice sounding almost disappointed. I nod, silently following him. We blend in with the crowd, nobody noticing us. It's funny because I feel as if the two of us have big red flags above us, proclaiming the wrongfulness of our conversation just now. There's so much I don't understand, both about how I feel and how he feels.

Taking a deep breath, I try to place that in the back of my mind. We won't get another chance tonight to talk about it, not with everyone around. But I can't let Marco and me be distant again until we do get the chance to talk about it.

"How'd you get that bruise on your face?" I ask. He chuckles halfheartedly, touching a finger to it lightly.

"Well my group was sparring today, and I was a bit distracted and off my game you could say." He explains embarrassedly.

"I'm really sorry." I say, knowing I'm the reason for him being so distracted. He laughs, patting me lightly on the back.

"It's okay, I heard you had it much worse. How many times did you fall today exactly?" He teases.

"Shut up!" I retort. He smiles broadly at my reaction, and it feels like we're finally back to normal. We banter like usual the rest of the way to our sleeping quarters and continue until it's lights out.

Now that it's dark and I have nothing to distract me, the day's events flood back into my head. During the night is when I always tend to overthink things and doubt myself, but it's much worse tonight. I'm tossing and turning violently, trying desperately to find a position comfortable enough to prevent me from thinking anymore. I don't know how long I've been doing this, but I freeze as I hear Marco's quiet voice above me.

"What was that?" I ask hesitantly.

"I asked if you're okay." He whispers. Like usual, he's got his head hanging over the edge of his bed, looking down at me. Just able to make out his face, I squint up at him.

"Yeah." I answer.

"Thinking too much?"

"Yeah."

"Me too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

We fall silent, unsure of how to continue. All I keep saying is 'yeah'. How stupid. I have no idea what to say to him right now. My mind is spinning with all sorts of thoughts and feelings that I can't sort out. However, all of my thinking has led me to one startling conclusion. I think I'm beginning to fall for my best friend.

"I _did_ mean it that way." Marco whispers…I figured it was coming eventually, but the words still take me by surprise. Ashamed of myself for being oddly comforted by the validation that comes with them, I say nothing in return.

"Night." Marco adds before he lies back down on his bed. I roll onto my side, forcing myself to stay still as I try to drift off into sleep. Until that moment comes, all I can think is one fact. Despite how halting and strange our confessions were, one thing is for sure. Marco likes me, and I'm beginning to think I feel the same way about him.


	8. Memory 7: Firewood Duty

Sorry! My parents visited me at college so I had to postpone writing for a day or two. But they left today so I'm writing full speed again. I hope you enjoy this next chapter. I kind of wanted to display a bit about the friendship Marco and Jean have before they get TOO lovey dove :p but it's still a good chapter in my opinion. One of my favorites so far :) **Thanks!**

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It's been five days since we talked things over, and I've been left with more questions than answers. We've both acted like nothing happened, unable to muster the nerve to bring it up. Everything almost feels normal, except for the fact that we've both caught each other staring multiple times this week.

Like right now, I can't help but stare at him. The both of us, along with a few other cadets, have been tasked with going into the forest and getting firewood. Each of us, wielding nothing but dull axes, have been hacking away at trees and logs for the last few hours. It's tiresome, but I guess I shouldn't complain. Winter is just around the corner and I'd like our barracks to be at least a somewhat reasonable temperature during the night. And for that to happen we need a lot of firewood.

Marco is about ten feet away from me, swinging repeatedly at the thick tree he fell a few minutes ago. By now, all of us have taken off our jackets and discarded them in a pile at the base of a tree way too large to make use of. Marco has his sleeves rolled up and the first two buttons of his shirt opened. Sweat is beading on the back of his neck, dripping down and contributing to the already damp spot on the middle of his back.

Winter may be coming soon, but this autumn day is unusually hot, and all of us are sweating from the combination of the temperature and our efforts. I shake my head and turn back to my tree, which is somehow still holding on despite me having cut almost all the way through it. Why won't it just fall?! I angrily whack at it over and over again, distracting myself from Marco, no matter how dreamy he may be. _Dreamy? Oh jeez, what's happening to me?_

Finally, cracking resounds through the woods as my tree begins to lean toward me. Stepping out of its way, I let it crash to the ground loudly. The boom echoes through the trees, stirring up birds and other animals. I glance over to see Marco smiling at me.

"Good job." He compliments. I stand tall and nod in thanks, feeling possibly a bit too proud of myself at the moment.

"I think it's even bigger than yours." I comment, never missing a chance to poke fun at him. He chuckles, setting down his axe and massaging the blisters on his palms as he walks over. Standing next to me, he surveys my tree first and then looks back at his.

"I'd say they're about equal." He says teasingly, patting my shoulder once lightly. I huff at his response, nudging his arm.

"No way. Mine's definitely bigger. You didn't look hard enough."

"You sound like you're a bit jealous." He says with a sly grin. I wave away dirt and leaves that have been tossed into the air from the tree.

"Extremely." I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He nods doubtfully, laughing as he walks back over to his axe. Picking it up, he shoots me a kind smile to let me know that he was just joking, and then continues on with his work. I follow suit, working my way up the length of the tree to rid it of extra braches still covered in greenery.

For the next few hours, all of us are so consumed with our work that we don't notice the time pass. I don't even realize how tired and sore I am until I hear the trotting of a wagon approaching on the dirt road to our left. We all set down our axes and approach it, saluting the driver.

"At ease. I'm here to retrieve the wood you've cut." He says disinterestedly.

"Yes sir!" We respond respectfully in unison, turning on our heels to go gather up the large pieces of cut wood we produced during the day. As I'm trying to balance a few more pieces than necessary between my arms, I hear an annoyed groan and I glance over at Marco. I swear I almost drop everything at the sight of him.

He's staring down disappointedly at his shirt, which has been ripped by the wood he had against his chest that he was carrying. The upper half of his chest is exposed, and it's more of Marco than I've ever seen. He looks up and catches my eye. I feel myself blush as I panic at being caught staring again.

"Damn, that sucks." I say, trying to cover for myself. _Actually, it's fantastic._

"Yeah. Oh well, I'm sure I can get one of the girls to sew it for me tonight. This is my best shirt though."

"All of you uniform shirts are the same. White button-ups." I say with a chuckle, turning and heading toward to wagon. Marco quickly picks up his wood pieces and runs to catch up with me.

"But this one is my favorite!" He insists. I shake my head and laugh tiredly as we begin to set our loads in the back of the wagon. Marco laughs along with me, causing me to get that warm feeling I've been getting recently every time he does something extremely cute, which is way too often. His laugh is light and melodious, contrasting his deep voice. I push the feeling down, telling myself to focus as we continue to work on getting the wood on the wagon for the next half hour.

Finally, when we're finished loading the wagon, the driver says that we must walk back to the base now, despite the fact that we are absolutely drained. When we protest, he simply smirks and says it's endurance training. Then he takes off down the dirt road, his horses kicking up dust in an almost insulting way.

"I'm so tired, I don't know if I can make it back on foot." One girl says, her voice thick with tears.

"Me too. How can they expect this from us when we've worked all day in the heat with no food?" A blonde boy cries out, seating himself on the ground. I look over at Marco, who is visibly exhausted. He's leaning up against a tree, breathing heavily. I survey the rest of the group, who are all either sitting down or lying on the forest floor. A few are even crying.

Frustrated, I stalk over the tree where our jackets are and grab all of them. I pick out Marco's and mine and throw the rest on the ground in front of those resting.

"Look, I get you're all tired. I'm tired too, not to mention starving. But the faster we get back, the faster we get to both dinner and our beds." I announce, catching their attention. I look up at the sky, seeing its orange tint.

"Besides, the sun is setting so I'm sure the heat will let up soon. Don't be lazy. You really want to sleep here tonight?" I argue, finally getting a couple of the fellow cadets to stand and pick up their respective jackets. I feel one taken from my hand and turn to see Marco behind me, a tired smile on his face even though he looks like he could fall over any minute.

"Let's go." I say forcefully, weaving between the now upright soldiers. With Marco beside me and the others trailing after us, I start down the dirt road. It's got to be at least a mile and a half back, but we've run way longer than that before with heavy packs on our backs in the pouring rain. Of course, we'd eaten before then and we hadn't been out working our asses off all day, but it's not as long a trek as it could be.

"You can be quite motivating when you want to be." Marco tells me after a few minutes, trudging next to me with his hands in his pockets and his jacket slung over his right shoulder.

"Thanks. I wouldn't have to be if they weren't such wimps though." I complain quietly.

"Hey now, we're all exhausted. Don't be mean." He says gently.

"Sorry." I say begrudgingly, kicking a pebble in front of me down the road.

"I was even considering taking a nice little nap until you spoke up."

"You lazy bum."

"Yeah. Why do you think I keep you around though?" He says jokingly.

"True. You'd never get anything done without me." I tease, my mood lightening. I glance over at Marco and he's staring up at the sliver of sky visible between the thick trees lining the road. I look up too and see that the east is starting to get a purple tint.

"You were right. It's getting much cooler now that the sun is setting." Marco says happily. "And I feel much better. I thought I was going to pass out back there for a moment." He admits.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," I say, digging my thumbs into my own lower back. "Damn, my back is killing me." It's surely from bending over all day with that axe.

"Really? It's my arms that are hurting me." Marco informs me, rubbing his left shoulder.

"That's because you've got those skinny chicken arms." I retort jokingly. I'm obviously kidding, because Marco has _great _arms. I should know since I've been staring at them all day.

"Ouch. You never miss an opportunity to mess with me do you?" He responds, his voice still light and friendly. Thank goodness Marco can take a joke or else he'd probably hate my guts, like most other people here.

"It's my job man."

"True. I believe your job description, to be exact, is to become a professional lumberjack and make fun of me. Oh, and somewhere in between you have to take out a few titans." Marco retorts. I can't help but laugh at that. Marco is the only person around here who makes me laugh. In fact, he's the only one that makes me happy at all.

We continue to keep ourselves going by distracting each other with conversation the rest of the walk. If I weren't so focused on him, there's no way I'd be able to ignore the circulating pains throughout my whole body so easily. Finally, we can see the end of the trees coming up, and the beginnings of buildings and fields.

"Thank goodness." I hear Marco breathe. I look up at the sky and see that stars are just beginning to form, the sky still holding on to that dark blue color it gets after the sun has finished setting, insisting it still has at least some light.

"I think we're just in time for dinner." I say, picking up the pace even though my legs scream in protest.

"Slow down, it's not going anywhere." Marco says with a tired chuckle. I take his advice and fall back in line next to him, but only because I'm so unbelievably exhausted. Finally, I hear footsteps as the other cadets who were behind us catch up.

"Thank you so much Jean." One of them says to me. I turn my head to look back at them, and they're all smiling at me.

"Yeah, if it weren't for you we'd all still be laying on the ground back there." Another pipes up. The rest murmur in agreement, and I almost feel slightly embarrassed at their open adoration.

"Yeah well next time don't make me have to practically drag you guys against your will again." I retort, turning forward again. They fall quiet, unsure of how to react to my rudeness. I don't care though. I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I've got a lot of tension pent up from acting like I don't have an immense crush on Marco all day.

When we finally make it to the dining hall, we all burst through the door excitedly, rushing to the food. All the other cadets who are already seated and well into their meals are surprised by our eagerness. Once we're sitting as well, Marco and I wordlessly scarf down our food, for once not noticing how horrible it tastes.

"You guys weren't given lunch when you were out there today?" Bertholdt asks. The two of us shake our heads in unison, not taking a break from our food to answer with words.

"Damn, I wouldn't have survived." Connie comments.

"Remind me to avoid firewood duty _at all costs._" Sasha says, real fear evident on her face. I'd make fun of her ridiculous eating habits if I weren't so engrossed in my gray, chunky soup that somehow tastes like a five-star meal tonight. When Marco and I finish our food, we both down our drinks quickly and then lean on the table in exhaustion. I turn my head to the left to look at him and he's already facing me.

"I am so tired now." He informs me, his eyelids dropping just a tad.

"Me too. I might just fall asleep here." I admit, letting my eyes fall closed.

"Same." He responds. I remain silent, thinking about how cute his voice sounds when he's sleepy. My mind is barely working right now, but still thoughts about Marco are breaking through the haze. Every day since we had our conversation out on the dining hall porch, I've woken up each morning hoping that'll be the day when I'll work up enough courage to bring it back up. Even though I'm worried it could affect our friendship, I can't just let the whole thing go unresolved. I can't just forget about what we said, what _Marco_ said.

Suddenly, I'm dragged back to full consciousness as the bell rings louder than usual for us to return to our sleeping quarters. Marco and I both groan in unison, struggling to stand up. As we leave the dining hall sluggishly, I think to myself that another day has passed that I haven't said a word about the whole thing between us. Miserably, I tell myself that it has to be tomorrow. I'm sick of lying to him and lying to myself. Yeah, it's got to be tomorrow or else I'm going to lose my mind.


	9. Memory 8: Holiday

Hello everyone! I have a feeling this is the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for :p Hope you enjoy. **Thanks for reading!**

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I haven't had the best luck during most of my time here so far in the 104th cadets corps, but for once things are finally going my way. We just got told that we have the whole day off! It's for one of those stupid holidays that are no longer relevant within the walls but are still held over from the old days of humanity. I forget which one it is this time, but I've been told that the holiday that takes place in the fall season has much to do with food. Sounds good to me.

Everyone is abuzz with excitement as we leave morning formation, free to do whatever we please for the remainder of the day. I glance over at Marco who is laughing at Sasha's over-the-top excitement for the supposed "feast" tonight we're being served. Tearing my eyes away from his smile, I remember the half-conscious promise I made to myself last night to talk to him about our stalemate of sorts today. As of right now I have no clue how to bring it up, but at least I have the whole day free now to figure it out.

"So what are our plans for the day Jean?" Marco asks happily, trotting over and coming to a halt beside me. While I'm flattered that he's assuming we'll be spending it together, I don't know what to say. I want to do something that will get the two of us away from everyone else so that we can talk in private, but I haven't a clue as to what that would be. And I don't want to just come out and ask if we can go somewhere alone.

"I don't know." I answer, mentally punching myself in the head for being so stupid and lame and every other derogatory name I can think to call myself.

"Hmm…How about we go to the fields? It might be the last time we get to see grass like that for a while with winter almost here." Marco suggests. God, sometimes I could just hug him. It's as if he read my mind and simply came up with an answer for me.

"Sounds perfect." I reply, falling into line with him as we begin to leave the formation lot and continue to the far side of the base. The nearest field has tall grass, and is used for stealth exercises sometimes. We don't use it very often though, because only those who are crazy enough to join the Survey Corps would ever need to be able to sneak around undetected in grass like that.

When we finally get there, Marco pulls ahead, smiling widely as the grass reaches up his legs. The field is a bright green under the cloudless sky, contrasting with the pale green of his shirt. He laughs heartily, beckoning for me to join him. I trudge through the tall tendrils slowly, unable to help but chuckle at him. When's the last time I saw him this excited? Then I really chuckle, realizing that it was probably last night when we finally got dinner after the whole day of cutting wood. I can't blame him though. It's not clear enough for me to remember for sure, but I may have knocked someone down trying to get to the food. All of us were starving.

Coming back to the present, I follow Marco through the field to the one solitary tree that marks the center. Once we get to it, we sit comfortably against it, taking cover from the bright sun under the shade of its leaves. For a while, we just talk about trivial things, whether it's complaints about the events yesterday and about the food we're forced to eat, or our excitements about one day joining the military police. However, eventually we fall quiet, simply staring out over the beautiful field.

I'm not a very calm guy usually, but I feel extremely placid right now. I'm simply sitting and enjoying the peacefulness, comforted by the dark-haired boy next to me. Nobody is around to bother us. _Nobody is around to bother us._

Suddenly a bundle of nerves blossoms in my abdomen, yelling at me to speak up. Now's the time. There will be no better place to bring it up than right here, right now. I swallow and lean forward, my chin resting on one knee.

"Hey Marco," I start. He turns to me, his usual smile upon his face. Marco is sitting cross-legged, his back against the bark of the tree. "Can I ask you something?" I continue.

"Yeah, what is it?" He answers curiously. I don't even know how to phrase it.

"Shit, I don't even know how to ask it." I begin, running a hand through my hair. His smile falters slightly, but it's still there. "Do you…dammit. Am I…ugh." I mutter, feeling myself becoming increasingly embarrassed. I'm not good at all with stuff like this. At least he's still smiling though, even if it's a small one. "What's going on, like between us?" I finally manage. At that, his smile disappears completely. Marco stares at me expressionlessly for a few moments and then leans his head back against the tree. After exhaling heavily, he answers.

"I don't know Jean. You tell me." He says, sounding just as confused as I feel.

"What do you mean "you tell me?" You're the one who said you meant to come on to me in the gear shed!" I retort.

"You're the one having sexual dreams about me." He reminds me. I blush uncontrollably at that, frowning at him angrily.

"I never told you it was sexual!" I cry out in defensive protest.

"Oh, so it was then?" He replies with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up." I mumble, turning my head away from him.

"And the truth comes out! Care to share details?" Marco asks, nudging my arm slightly. I turn my whole body so that my back is to him.

"I said shut the fuck up. Forget it." I mutter. Marco quiets down after that, and we sit in silence for a few moments. Then he speaks up.

"Hey Jean, I was just messing with you. I didn't mean to embarrass you." I hear him say behind me. I don't respond, being my always stubborn self. I can't help it sometimes. There is silence for quite a while again, and my resolve is beginning to fade. How long can I force myself not to look at his handsome face? Just as I'm about to turn around and apologize for once again overreacting, he breaks the silence another time.

"You're right, I was totally coming on to you in the gear shed. I didn't mean to. I just can't always control myself around you. And I'm flattered that you'd have dreams like that about me. I don't really care if it's weird…and okay, maybe I meant to embarrass you a little bit, but it's just because you act so cute when I mess with you. I didn't want to get you angry. " Marco admits. I turn my head to look at him, and he's blushing like crazy, looking down at the grass and fiddling with a single stem. Then he focuses his eyes on me.

"I really like you." He finally says. I feel my throat go dry at the sound of his words. As they register in my head, I feel heat flood my face.

"I real…" I croak out. My throat is too dry to talk. I really do suck at stuff like this. What a loser.

"What was that?" Marco asks, shifting closer to me. I swallow, trying to remedy my inability to speak.

"I really like you too." I eventually manage to say, looking right into his eyes. They crinkle as his smile returns, his red cheeks deepening another shade or two if that's even possible. The pit of nervousness in my stomach is so severe I can feel myself almost trembling.

"I'm glad to hear that." He answers. I turn my body back around so that I'm not breaking my neck to look at him any longer. We sit there facing each other, awkwardly looking at one another unsure of what to do next. He eventually breaks our gaze, looking down at the ground. Picking another grass stem, he plays with it nervously between his fingers.

My eyes trail down to his mouth, which is set in a firm line. I can tell he's really nervous, but he still looks so unbelievably adorable. In fact, he may look even a bit more adorable than usual. I scoot a bit closer to him, making him flinch and look back up at me, dropping the blade of grass. Knowing him, he's way too scared to make a move right now, so I guess I'll do it.

I set a shaky hand on Marco's shoulder, trying hard not to chicken out and look away from his eyes. My heart is racing faster than any training has ever made it beat, and I'm more terrified than any titan could ever make me. However, I still force myself to lean toward him slowly, closing the distance between our faces. He peers at me through his big brown eyes, a look of both fear and curiosity on his face, most likely mirroring mine. At the last second, I let my eyes fall closed.

Then I kiss him.

I feel my whole body fluttering strangely as my lips press gently against Marco's. They're so soft, like the kind words that always seem to be rolling off his tongue. A shot of adrenaline shoots through my veins as he begins to kiss me back. I feel his hand rest on my knee as he leans in closer to me. I grip his shoulder tighter, both too captivated and nervous to move any more than that.

We kiss for a few very long moments, and then unfortunately, finally part. Both of us smile at each other afterwards, and Marco lets out a small, awkward chuckle. I do the same, unable to believe that just happened, and that I liked it so much. We both lean back against the tree, returning to our original positions. I don't know exactly how long it takes for the redness in our faces to subside, but it takes quite a bit.

For once, I don't have any stupid or rude comments to sputter out, and I'm glad. I don't want to say anything that could ruin this moment with Marco. I look over at him and he's just looking up at the sky and smiling. I do the same thing, searching unsuccessfully for a single cloud up there. Today really is perfect. My eyes travel back down to him, and I survey his freckle-laden face. This boy next to me is the real reason today is so perfect.


	10. Memory 9: Maintenance Shed

I don't much to say about this except you're welcome :p **Thanks for reading!**

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Bursting. That's what I feel like I've been close to doing these last few days. As if our superiors are trying to make up for the holiday we had, we've been working almost nonstop this week. And because of that, Marco and I haven't been able to steal even a second alone with each other. We barely get time to talk, because we're too hungry at meals and too tired in the barracks to have the energy to do much more than eat and sleep.

I'm currently cleaning the floor in the dining hall with a cloth. A few others who I don't know very well are here too. They seem to be avoiding me. Go figure. Oh well, I'm not oblivious to the fact that everyone here thinks I'm a jerk. I am one, aren't I? It doesn't bother me, mainly because I have Marco by my side most of the time. Everyone, even those who don't know him, gets along with his friendly demeanor. Sometimes I wonder if people like Connie, Annie, Reiner, Bertholdt, Armin, and the whole gang simply just tolerate me because Marco's around and I'm his friend.

I scrub harder on the floor, casting the thoughts from my head. What do I care what those people think of me anyway? In no way did I come to the military with the objective of making friends. The only person whose opinion about me I value is Marco's, and so far I've at least refrained from driving him away.

Deep in my thoughts, it takes me a few moments to notice I'm cleaning a spot I've already covered. Looking up, I realize that the floor is finished. The others are standing up, brushing off their knees and discarding their cloths. I do the same, checking the clock on the wall above the kitchen door. It's 1:38, and I don't have to be at my next assignment until 2:00.

As I leave the dining hall, I wonder what I'm going to do for the next twenty minutes until I've got to be at the sparring lot. Figuring I'll just get there early and take a catnap until we start, I begin making me way there. I shove my hands deep into my pockets, trudging across the dirt. Maybe Jaeger will be in my sparring group and I'll get the opportunity to kick his ass. That'd be nice.

A cool breeze hits me, and I breathe in, thankful to be out of the stuffy dining hall that smelled like floor cleaner. Breathing in again, I realize that I too smell like floor cleaner. A sigh escapes my mouth and I frown, dreading having to face yet another activity without Marco there with me. We still end up in the same group most of the time, but every single time we're separated even for a bit it grates on my nerves.

When I'm not with him, the only people who can even tolerate talking to me are usually Reiner and Connie. Even though Reiner's a show off and Connie's pretty dumb sometimes, they are nice guys. Then of course there's Jaeger, who _always_ feels the need to talk to me. Too bad he only does it to piss me off. Gritting my teeth, I try to push him out of my mind and go over fighting moves in my head, preparing for sparring.

"Jean!" I hear an urgent whisper that immediately pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn to my right anxiously, already knowing who it is.

"Marco?" I call out. I can just make out his figure in the doorway of the maintenance shed. It seems so dark compared to the blazing sunlight out here.

"Shh! Get in here!" Marco whispers again. I look around, seeing nobody nearby, and quickly make my way into the shed.

"Hey bossy, why are we whispering?" I complain, blinking quickly to try and help my eyes adjust to the low light inside the barn-like structure. Even though I'm griping, I'm actually very happy to see Marco. I haven't seen him since morning formation and I've been pretty lonely all day.

"I don't want us to get caught." He answers quickly, pulling me after him deeper into the dimly lit room. I raise an eyebrow, following him amidst the rusty and broken down blades, wires, fans, and gas tanks.

"What do you mean, get caught?" I question. Instead of answering, Marco stops short and turns around, causing me to crash into him.

"Whoa!" I exclaim, trying to catch my balance. He grabs onto my upper arms, steadying me. Before I can ask him what's going on, his lips are on mine. I almost yelp in surprise as he eagerly pulls me closer to him until our bodies are flat against each other. After a short moment of bewildered hesitation, I close my eyes and begin to kiss him in return, my arms wrapping around his lower back. His hands come up to rest on my cheeks as he gently holds me in place. I can't tell if it's the warmth from his calloused hands or my mixture of sudden arousal and nervousness that's making my face feel so hot.

I can feel my breathing quickening as he takes it upon himself to deepen the kiss. A spark courses through me when he begins to beg for entrance into my mouth through his actions. I oblige, meeting his tongue with my own. We explore in a rushed and eager manner, clinging to each other tighter with each passing second.

Every feeling Marco brings me is pure bliss. Not a single thought passes through my head that doesn't have to do with what's happening right now in the maintenance shed. His chest rises and falls frantically against mine, and his hands have begun to roam all over my face, neck, and hair, as if he's searching for something. He's never come off as forceful like this at all, and it's surprisingly invigorating. Maybe he's not quite as innocent as I make him out to be.

In my life I've never felt as alive as I do right now in this dark corner of the military base, hidden away from prying eyes and free to do whatever we want. Every movement we share is exhilarating, and I almost can't believe it's even happening. Then something catches my attention. It's distant, but my ears, even with Marco's fingers tracing the edges of them, can make out the familiar sound of the warning bell. I've got five minutes to be at my next assignment and ready to train.

Fuck.

I try to pull my face back, but he's holding me too tightly. So I turn my head to the side, gasping for air. Marco plants light kisses on my cheek before trying to make his way back to my mouth.

"Marco…" I choke out, embarrassed at how husky my voice sounds.

"Don't go." He mumbles into my skin. God, he sounds so hot right now…He presses a few kisses onto my jawline and my breath catches in my throat at the unexpected contact. Soon he begins kissing my neck, rendering me immobile.

"I'll be late." I breathe shakily, leaning my head back involuntarily. He places a few more kisses on my throat before finally pulling back reluctantly. I lean my head forward and slowly open my eyes, looking at Marco's disappointed, but absolutely adorable face. Catching my breath, I take hold of one of his hands.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, giving him one more peck on his lips. Then I let go of him and quickly make my way out of the small building. Before I pass through the doorway, I glance back at Marco. He's staring at me with those big brown eyes sitting atop blushing cheeks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I flash him a smile before turning and breaking into a run on the hard, dirt ground outside.

Hopefully everyone there will just think I'm flushed and out of breath from running to arrive on time. I can't help but smile to myself as I make my way there, thinking about what just happened. That was quite intimate for only a second kiss in my book, but I like how Marco thinks. Since we barely get any time together, we have to take advantage of what we get. And damn, he was so hot, begging me not to go and kissing my neck like that. I shake my head, pushing the thought out of my head before my body provides evidence of my thoughts that I can't use running as an excuse for.

I finally skid to a stop at the sparring lot, joining my group. One of the assholes who avoided me in the dining hall earlier comments about my almost tardiness to the boy next to him. I ignore it, way too happy to pay any mind to stuff like that. Marco has a knack for making me not care about all the stupid shit around me. Even when I'm not with him, just thinking about him calms me down. I smirk, figuring I'll just beat the guy up when we're sparring. After all, it's part of the training right?


End file.
